


Falling for Her Doorstep

by JiniZ



Series: SPN Coldest Hits-Don't Read This Dreck [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: And he doesn't give a fuck, Other, sam fucks a door, well the mail slot to be specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-16 13:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12343437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ/pseuds/JiniZ
Summary: Sam Winchester fucks a beautiful purple door.





	Falling for Her Doorstep

See, here’s the thing. Sam knows what he’s doing is wrong. He just doesn’t  _ care. _

And that, more than anything, is what should scare him the most. Yet it doesn’t. 

He’s going to get caught. There’s no doubt about it. It’s just a matter of when, not if. 

It’s a little after 3am. He’s not sure what day it is. They’ve all sort of blended together at this point. But this house...this  _ door _ . He can’t even describe it. 

He has no idea who lives here - a woman, actually, but he’s never met her - and he doesn’t want to see her. He doesn’t want anyone inside. 

Sam wants the door. 

The door is beautiful. It’s wide, sleek. It’s painted a deep, royal purple and has a silver knob and mail slot. 

He’s touched it before, the paint. Whoever painted it knew what they were doing. The metal slot is cool every time he touches it and it makes him shiver. 

Of course, he’s only ever visited the door in the wee hours of the morning when the temperature drops several degrees. He wonders what it would feel like in the middle of the day. Would it be warm to his touch, or simply  _ there,  _ not quite warm, but not quite cool from the night before. 

Just standing on the opposite side of the street has sam half hard in anticipation. Before he can stop himself, Sam crosses the street to the walkway in front of the house. It’s as if his feet move on their own. 

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be doing this, but the door. Oh, the door. 

The porch light is burnt out, or maybe the owners didn’t turn it on. Either way, it provides Sam with much needed cover of darkness. 

He counts the steps up to the porch -  _ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - _ and halts at the top. His breathing is ragged, but not from the exertion. It’s in anticipation of touching  _ her.  _ He raises his gaze from the porch, slowly raking up the purple door, taking in her color, her grooves. He steps toward her, hand outstretched.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

It’s a whisper, low and breathy that leaves his lips. His fingers graze her paint and he shivers. He places his cheek to her smooth surface, closes his eyes, and inhales her scent. He has no idea how long ago the door was painted such a beautiful color, but he swears he can still smell the scent of it lingering in her crevices. 

His dick swells as he presses himself flush with her, and he makes a small humping motion on her. He probably should apologize to her. He doesn’t want to simply  _ use  _ her, but he’s gotta be quick so he doesn’t get caught. She understands. 

He cups his dick through his jeans for a moment before unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out. It’s in this moment that Sam is the most vulnerable. He pumps his cock a couple of times and rubs the head on her paint, leaving a blot of precome on her. It’s a cool evening and the temperature of the door makes him shiver. 

Sam is tall, so in order to slide his dick through the mail slot, he has to crouch down a bit. It’s awkward, but it’s so worth it. He lifts the cover with one hand and rubs the head of his cock on it with the other. The metal borders on cold.

He pushes the flap to the door and slowly nudges his cock through the slot. The head is almost too big to fit, but with a little bit of effort, it pops into the house. Sam bites his lip to keep from groaning out loud. 

With a pace that would frustrate a snail, Sam glides his cock inside until his balls hit the door. He has to stay still lest he spill too soon. After a few deep breaths, he thrusts slowly into the slot, but quickly picking up the pace. He knows that if he stays too long, he might get caught. 

His torso is even with the wood, and his cheek rests against it. His breathing is labored and he knows it won’t be long. To speed things along even more, he kisses the door, parting his lips, but not tonguing it. He loves the door, but who knows how dirty she is. 

Sam is close. He knows he is, but he doesn’t pull out of the mail slot. Just once, he wants to leave her with something. He knows it’s stupid and reckless, but he really, really doesn’t give a shit. So as he feels his orgasm building, he keeps his cock buried in the slot. 

He’s practiced at coming quietly, having had years of practice sharing sleeping space with his brother, so when he comes, he only lets out the faintest huff of breath as he spills into the house. His breathing slows and his cock softens making it easy to remove himself from her. Lowering the flap quietly, he steps back and tucks himself away. 

Sam rests a palm and his forehead on the door. He’s not sure when he’ll see her again. They’ve already spent too much time in this town and will be leaving within the next day or two. He kisses her purple skin once more, reluctantly pulls away from her and heads back out into the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the [SPN Coldest Hits](https://mayalaen.tumblr.com/post/166085560074/forbidden-titles-spncoldesthits-october) challenge on Tumblr. They come up with the weirdest shit, ISTFG. But then, I wrote something for it, sooooo.....yeah. 
> 
> Shout out to [Metatron-The-Transformer](http://www.metatron-the-transformer.tumblr.com) for the beta!


End file.
